


Shame To Be A Pirate

by ReinbewPastel



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: Jack Sparrow - Rob Kidd
Genre: M/M, Young Jack Sparrow, jack sparrow books, pirates of the caribbean - Freeform, rob kidd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:14:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27487135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReinbewPastel/pseuds/ReinbewPastel
Summary: "It is only part of my job to help rid the world of piracy. It's a shame you had to be one of them. Then things would have been different."Jack was frozen and speechless as Fitzwilliam pulled his hand back and walked back to the stairs. Sadness and anger filled him. Fitzwilliam had betrayed him again, the second time in the past few weeks.Spoilers for Sins of the Father!Fanfiction by me, Reinbew PastelPirates of the Caribbean Jack Sparrow by Rob Kidd © Disney Press
Relationships: Fitzwilliam P. Dalton III & Jack Sparrow, JackxFitzy
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The following story contains subject matter that some readers may find uncomfortable, including violence, light blood/gore, hanging, hints at fetishism, and sexually suggestive content. This story also has heavy JackXFitzy and a hint of Sparrabella. This story is meant to be read for enjoyment and not meant to go in mine or anyone else's wank bank. Reader's discretion is advised.  
> Enjoy!!

_Ding!_  
  
A bell rung, indicating it was morning. This was it. This was the day of the execution.  
  
It had been a couple weeks since Jack Sparrow and the man who he suspected was his father, Captain Teague, was thrown in the prison in Port Royal. They _were_ going to be hanged at Tortuga right after their initial arrest, but the Royal Navy decided to bring them to Port Royal and keep them there for some time to toy with them before they were to be hanged at the gallows in Fort Charles.  
  
It was hard for Jack to believe that his career at sea, and his life, would be cut so short. He thought his life had been perfect since running away from home, having secured a rickety old boat, the _Barnacle_ , and having assembled his own crew. He felt so powerful. He felt so...free. But then, everything changed. While still having his boat, his crew had abandoned him. All of his crew with the exception of Fitzwilliam P. Dalton III.  
  
From the start, Jack had a strong dislike for Fitzwilliam. The boy who claimed to be a runaway aristocrat was snobby and incredibly annoying. Fitzwilliam had threatened to turn Jack in for theft of the _Barnacle_ if he did not let him join, and challenged him for a duel when he still refused. Jack had not been trained in swordsmanship the way Fitzwilliam had. In fact, he didn’t even own a sword; Arabella had tossed him one of the old rusty swords from a chest on board the _Barnacle_. In the end, Fitzwilliam won his away aboard and joined his crew.  
  
During the year the two had been sailing together, Jack had to admit that Fitzwilliam was quite useful in some ways. He would often use his excellent swordsmanship to fight anything off, and he was there for cover when the crew needed to blend in. Jack and Fitzwilliam would always bicker and fight, like when Fitzwilliam always argued that Jack wasn’t a captain, or when they didn’t agree on matters of navigating the _Barnacle_ or responding to threats. Although, something deep inside Jack actually liked the constant bickering and back-and-forth. He loved antagonizing Fitzwilliam, even going far as to hiding his things, threatening to drop his special time-stopping pocketwatch overboard, or intentionally eating some of the worst things all together in order to save and eventually release the most putrid gas in Fitzwilliam’s face or under his sheets while asleep. He also constantly tried to get Fitzwilliam angry enough to finally hear him swear, which was something he would never do no matter what. Jack loved seeing the aristocrat being thrown into an apocalyptic fit of rage, with sweat beating down his forehead and his cheeks growing red in anger.  
  
With the dislike Jack had for him and his love of annoying or arguing with him, there was something else much deeper within him about Fitzwilliam. Throughout the time they had sailed together, especially after the two had been left alone when the rest of the crew abandoned him, he started to develop feelings towards Fitzwilliam. The same sort of feelings he had developed with Arabella for some time. Jack tried hard to push his feelings away and mask it. There was no way! He thought he could only ever like lasses like that! Even if it was the case that he also swung the other way, why Fitzwilliam? He was the most annoying prat on earth! He hated his feelings and just wanted them to go away. Though sometimes, he wondered if Fitzwilliam also felt the same way about him.  
  
That would all remain a mystery when Fitzwilliam had revealed himself to be a spy for the Royal Navy and the East India Trading Company. He had promptly summoned a fleet of navy and Company ships after him, along with his father’s ship, the _Misty Lady_. He had turned the father-son-duo in twice, as they escaped the first time, and were now locked up in a cell in Port Royal together, with the window facing towards the gallows, a view of the hangman’s nooses ready and awaiting their arrival.  
  
Throughout each day, the only evidence of time passing was the sun peering through the bars of the little window, their daily meals of bread and water being delivered, and their beatings given by some of the guards and naval officers. Jack could clearly remember the first day of receiving those beatings like it was yesterday.  
  
  
  
Jack stood on his tip-toes and looked out the window to the gallows. He glanced over to Teague, who just sat against the stone wall on the hay-covered dirt floor.  
  
“How funny they put us right here when we will eventually be up there in a week and a half, eh?” Jack said in observation.  
  
“They placed us here on purpose,” the pirate captain replied. He pulled out his pipe he hid in his coat and lit it with a striker.  
  
Jack strode over to the bars, reaching his hand through and fiddling with the lock. He spent a couple minutes messing with it, hoping to break it somehow. The noise of him messing with the lock echoed through the corridors.  
  
“Stop it, boy,” Teague said. “You’re going to alert the guards.” He took a puff from his pipe.  
  
“Well, then I hope you best be forming some kind of escape plan...are you?” Jack asked turning to Teague. “You or Robbie said you have escaped dozens of times.”  
  
“We are too far in to do anything right now,” Teague responded. “We just have to wait for the opportune moment.”  
  
“The opportune moment?”  
  
Just then, they heard several footsteps echoing down the dank cellblock. Teague put out his pipe and stuffed it back in his coat while waving the smoke out of the air, and stood up. Jack quickly stepped away from the bars.  
  
The footsteps came closer and they stopped in front of their cell. Jack and Teague exchanged looks, wondering what the hell was going on since it was too early for their meals to be delivered. The bright sun shining through the window and the torch lights revealed a couple of guards, the prison officer, Admiral Lawrence Norrington, and his son cowering right by his side. The officer opened the barred door and the admiral and the boy walked through, with the guards and the officer guarding the cell.  
  
“Do you know why you two are kept here rather than just being done away with?” the admiral asked.  
  
“No, I can’t say I do,” Teague responded flatly.  
  
Jack looked up at Teague, hoping he would do something. He also panned over to the guarded bars, trying to think of a way out himself.  
  
The admiral turned to his son. “James, what I am about to show you now, and within the next couple of weeks, is what needs to be done to filthy rotten pirates like them.” The boy gulped, and Jack had an urge to so too.  
  
The admiral turned back to Teague. “Strip,” he commanded flatly.  
  
“Wait—What?” Jack said.  
  
Teague complied. One at a time, he removed each piece of his clothing, and the admiral commanded him to stop when he got to his lower half. Teague was topless and exposed, and the two guards grabbed him arm and arm holding him in place.  
  
The admiral went over to the officer who handed him a flogger. The flogger had multiple tails, and had tiny little hooks on the ends of each of them. The admiral slowly walked behind Teague with the flogger. Jack closed his eyes and turned away, expecting the sounds of whips lashing against his father’s back.  
  
_Thwack!  
  
Thwack!  
  
Thwack!_  
  
The sounds came. Again and again. And Teague grunted after each hit. Jack also heard sounds of the child whimpering in the background, watching it all happen before him. The lashing finally stopped after a couple minutes and Jack opened his eyes again. He still looked away from Teague's torn up back until he threw his shirt back on and limped over by Jack.  
  
The admiral turned to Jack and commanded the same thing. “Strip.”  
  
Unlike Teague, Jack was defiant. “Oh no, I am not going to—“  
  
Teague slapped him upside the head. “You’re going to make things worse for yourself, Jackie,” he said through gritted teeth.  
  
Without another word, the guards grabbed Jack and pulled him over to where Teague stood. They began to strip off his waistcoat, belt, and sash, discarding them against the wall of the cell.  
  
“Hey, now! Easy with the goods!” Jack said.  
  
“Shut up!” one of the guards shouted, kicking the back of one of his knees and nearly making his legs collapse.  
  
While holding onto him by his arms, the guards pulled his shirt up revealing his back. Jack gazed up at Teague. Although he never had the greatest relationship with his father, Teague was always there when he needed rescuing whether he liked it or not. This may be one of those times he needed rescuing. But instead, Teague casually stared back at him, silent and unmoving. Jack squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth, preparing for impact.  
  
_Thwack!_  
  
The admiral struck Jack. All the tails whipped and the little hooks grabbed onto his back, pulling chunks of skin out in the process. The wounds stung and he could feel trails of blood drip down his back.  
  
_Thwack!  
  
Thwack!  
  
Thwack!_  
  
The admiral struck him again and again. Jack whimpered in pain each time and tears stung his eyes, but he tried to keep on a brave face. The admiral held up the flogger, about to strike him again when a voice called out from outside the cell.  
  
“Uncle!”  
  
Jack opened his eyes and looked towards the bars, where Fitzwilliam was on the other side. Jack scowled at him.  
  
“Let me do the honors of this one,” Fitzwilliam said.  
  
“Very well, then,” the admiral said. “Let him in.”  
  
The prison officer opened the door and let Fitzwilliam in the cell. The admiral handed over the flogger and stepped away beside his son, letting Fitzwilliam take his place.  
  
“Of course _you_ would want to take the honors of slicing my back open,” Jack said.  
  
“It has been a long time coming,” Fitzwilliam sneered. “I’ve been dreaming of doing this since I’ve boarded your poor excuse of a vessel.”  
  
“Oh, you’d better take that back, Fitzy,” Jack retorted. “The _Barnacle_ was a right fine boat until you lot _destroyed_ it!”  
  
“Shut it, you pirate!” one of the guards shouted at him and kicked his legs again.  
  
“I am _not_ a pirate,” Jack angrily muttered under his breath.  
  
The two guards still held him up by his arms and kept his shirt up as Fitzwilliam prepared the flogger. Jack didn’t shut his eyes this time. He stared intently at Teague, Admiral Lawrence, and James.  
  
_Thwack!_  
  
Fitzwilliam had lashed even harder than his uncle did and with more force. It was almost like he was letting out a years worth of anger on the poor teenager.  
  
_Thwack!  
  
Thwack!  
_  
Teague stared stone-faced. The boy began to sob, burying his face into his father’s coat. The admiral wasn’t having any of it.  
  
“Quit looking away!” the admiral barked at the frightened boy, forcefully turning his head facing back to Jack.  
  
Jack felt for the boy being subjected to witnessing this torture. He glared at the admiral in anger, trying not to let tears fall as he was continuously flogged.  
  
_Thwack!  
  
Thwack!  
  
Thwack!_  
  
Jack anger subsided when he realized something. In as much horrible searing pain he was in, he realized that the pain felt... _good_. And this was only when Fitzwilliam was doing it.  
  
_Thwack!  
  
Thwack!_  
  
The lashing finally ended and the guards threw Jack onto the stone floor next to Teague. Everyone else filed out of the cell. The admiral being last as he made his parting exchange.  
  
“This won’t be the last.”  
  
The door slammed shut and the echoing footsteps disappeared, leaving Jack and Teague alone again.  
  
  
  
This happened almost once a day for the couple weeks they had been locked up, and Fitzwilliam was always there to do his part when it was Jack’s turn. He would be restrained by the guards as Fitzwilliam lashed his back, and sometimes other parts of his body as well. Jack’s eyes were red with tears that refused to fall and he bit the tails of his bandana, his teeth digging into the fabric to muffle any noises, keeping him from moaning in pleasure. And every time Fitzwilliam finished, Jack secretly wanted more but he couldn’t say anything in the presence of Teague and everyone else.  
  
Being a victim at the hands of Fitzwilliam turned Jack on, and he didn’t know how to feel about it. It appeared that Fitzwilliam was enjoying it too, considering he always came back when the admiral or any of the guards or officers came in to beat them.  
  
Jack thought about it as he pulled up his sleeves, looking down and running his fingers over the cuts, bruises, and burns that covered his arms, many that were fresh and many that had been healed. Footsteps echoed down the cellblock and Jack immediately pulled his sleeves back down. The prison guard stopped at his cell with a handful of glasses and biscuits.  
  
“You two better be lucky you are even having your last meal,” the guard snarled as he reached through the bars of the cell giving Jack and Teague their final meals before their demise.  
  
Jack and Teague sat against the wall together. Neither of them spoke as they bit into their hard biscuits. Jack looked down at his biscuit and thought about dipping it into his water, just like how Arabella used to when their ship’s biscuits were too hard to eat.  
  
  
  
Belowdeck of the _Barnacle_ , Jack was buttoning his breeches as Arabella sat on her berth in just her blouse, covering her naked bottom half with her skirt like a blanket.  
  
“How was it, Bell?” Jack asked, turning to her with a smirk. “Aren’t you glad you took me up on my offer?”  
  
“Oh, yeah. It was great,” Arabella bit her lip somewhat nervously with her face a little red. “I thought you were nonsense when ye told me ye knew what you were doing.”  
  
“Well, then you don’t know me enough,” Jack said. “That’s what happens when you spend years going to brothels!”  
  
This was true. During the few years before Jack ran away from home, Teague always dragged Jack to the brothels with him. Because of that, Jack got to know the girls in the brothels very well. They taught him many tips and tricks on talking to women, flirting, and how to be good in bed, making him the master he is.  
  
Arabella stood up and pulled on her bloomers and tied on both of her skirts. She slipped on her boots and grabbed the rest of her clothes, carrying them with her as she walked towards the galley to grab a biscuit. She stopped by Jack on her way as he was buttoning his waistcoat.  
  
“By the way, nobody else in the crew should _ever_ know about this. Especially Fitzwilliam,” Arabella said, looking Jack dead in the eyes. “And remember, this does _not_ mean any romance between us. We are just doing this to satisfy our needs, and that’s all. We are nothing more than friends—“  
  
“—with benefits,” Jack finished for her. “That’s all fine and well with me, lass! No one will ever know—not even the cat. If you need any help doing the deed again, you can count on me! Savvy?”  
  
“Yeah, sure,” Arabella said. She seemed a little unsure and Jack could sense it.  
  
“Hey, you can trust me, love,” Jack assured. “Who am I?” Arabella silently shrugged. “I’m Captain Jack Sparrow!” Jack smiled awkwardly. She stared at him amusingly, raising her eyebrow. Jack cleared his throat a little. “All right then, carry on.”  
  
Arabella chuckled and rolled her eyes, tossing her tousled auburn hair over her shoulder and proceeding to head for the galley.  
  
  
  
Jack had previously offered to help Arabella satisfy her needs when he and the rest of the crew accidentally caught her touching herself in the sleeping quarters one day. She declined at first, but overtime she began to get more unsatisfied with just doing it herself so she eventually took Jack up on his offer. The two waited until they docked at port and stayed behind when Fitzwilliam, Jean, Tumen, and Constance went to get supplies. They agreed it was nothing more than to help satisfy each other, like in a friends with benefits sort of way since they were both horny sexually frustrated teenagers. They did it time and time again and miraculously no one found out. Jack wished he could’ve had something more with Arabella since he always kind of had a crush on her, but he respected her wishes and stayed friends.  
  
Jack couldn’t finish his biscuit due to his thoughts about his old crew and his impending death. He sighed as he threw the hard lump of bread across the cell and leaned against the wall. He looked up at Teague who sat against the wall next to him.  
  
“So you said we have to wait until the opportune moment. When is that going to be?” Jack asked. “We’re going to be up at the gallows in less than two hours.”  
  
“Just wait,” Teague calmly replied. He seemed very content with himself and not at all concerned about what lies for the two.  
  
Time passed as they waited. Jack tried to fight sleep, but he ended up leaning against Teague shutting his eyes. He was suddenly awoken by keys loudly turning in the lock. His eyes shot open and they were met with some of the officers who were entering his cell with shackles.  
  
“It’s finally time, you filthy pirates,” one of the officers spat as they shackled the two.  
  
Jack gulped. He and Teague were led out of their cell, their hands and ankles bounded by shackles, one center chain connecting the two pairs of shackles together. They walked down the dank cellblock to a heavy door at one end, not at all where they had entered from when they first arrived.  
  
Jack kept looking up at Teague, wondering when that opportune moment would be. It must be now, or at some point soon since they were out of their cell. Hopefully _very_ soon since anytime later they will be hung by their necks. Teague still held his head up in confidence, like he had done it all before.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **MATURE CONTENT WARNING: The following story contains subject matter that some readers may find uncomfortable, including violence, light blood/gore, hanging, hints at fetishism, and sexually suggestive content. Reader's discretion is advised. Enjoy!!**

Jack woke up to a loud jingling of keys. He opened his eyes, but his vision was too blurry to see the dark stony cell he was in. His body fired and stung in pain from the lashes all across his back, chest, arms, legs,...everywhere. His bones hurt from lying on the cold, hard, dirt floor. Teague sat across from him, sitting up and sleeping against the wall.

The jingling stopped and the barred door creaked open. Footsteps quietly came towards him and Jack groggily sat up to see who it was that entered the cell. The figure stopped in front of him, blocking his view of Teague, and knelt down to him. The moonlight shining through the small barred window revealed a pale-ish chiseled young man with deep blue eyes and long dirty blonde hair that hung loose and draped over his shoulders.

Jack recognized who it was. "F-Fitzy? What are yo—"

"Shh!" the aristocrat quietly shushed him and reached his arms around his back and below his legs.

Fitzwilliam lifted up Jack's frail and scrawny body and carried him out of the cell, shutting the cell door behind him.

Jack was carried down the corridor and up a flight of stairs. He was still groggy, having no idea what was going on. After all, he did not trust Fitzwilliam at all, no matter how he deeply felt about him. He laid his head against his chest, listening to every breath the other boy took. He tried to stay awake, but the beating of Fitzwilliam's heart against his ear lulled him back to sleep.

Jack woke up to something cold and wet coming to contact with his face. He realized what he was laying on was soft, warm, and cushiony; a feeling he hadn't felt in a very long time, if ever. He opened his eyes and looked up at Fitzwilliam, who sat on the bed beside him dabbing the blood and dirt off his face with a cool wet handkerchief. Jack withdrew Fitzwilliam's hand from his face.

"What are you doing?!" Jack angrily asked through gritted teeth. "Are you _mad_?!"

"Oh, how the tables have turned," Fitzwilliam said. "Remember when I used to ask _you_ that?"

Jack sat up. "Just shut up! You are going to be in trouble for bringing me out here—wherever I bloody am right now—and I'm going to be in even _more_ trouble!" He waved his arms frantically as he enunciated every word. "They are probably going to hang me on the spot!"

"I can promise you they won't. You'll be back in your cell before sunrise." Fitzwilliam sounded a little too nice, which was out of character for him.

"Somebody must have spiked you're tea with ragwater or something, because you are speaking absolute nonsense right now!"

"I must say you're not being yourself either, Sparrow."

"What are you on about?!"

"I know you liked it out there!" Fitzwilliam accused. "You don't do exactly a good job of hiding it."

Jack went quiet as he glared at Fitzwilliam. Although he was vague, Jack knew exactly what he meant.

Fitzwilliam stood up and walked to a dresser across the fancy room. He went through one of the drawers and pulled something out, then walked back towards him with his hand behind his back. He pushed Jack onto his back and leapt on top of him on the bed, placing one hand over his mouth.

Jack immediately felt sharp, cold metal barely touching his neck, right below his larynx. He held his breath and felt all his blood flushing down to his lower half. He tried to speak, but the other boy's hand muffled his protests. Fitzwilliam lowered the dagger down to his chest, the tip lightly gliding against his skin. Jack's eyes grew wide as Fitzwilliam looked into his with almost a devilish smile. He pressed the blade down with the slightest bit of pressure. Jack let out a muffled yelp as the tip punctured his skin. The blade dragged down his chest in a straight line, drawing a bit of blood with it. He whimpered as the tip of the blade ever so lightly cut down his chest. More blood flushed to his lower half and he almost felt lightheaded. He then let out a slight moan and his face turned red.

Fitzwilliam lifted the knife and tossed it to the side. He lifted his hand from Jack's mouth and leaned in closer to him. Jack closed his eyes and felt a pair of soft lips touch his.

Jack and Fitzwilliam were always sort of rivals. But the more they were left together, like when they had to navigate New Orleans and avoid the police-turned-pirates, and especially after everyone else left to sail with Arabella's mother, Captain Laura, their relationship turned from pure rivalry to frenemies. While they still always argued, they had to work together to avoid certain death multiple times and fix the screwed up time caused by Jack playing with Fitzwilliam's special watch. Jack started have feelings for Fitzwilliam like with Arabella, and he thought he was simply going mad. He constantly told himself it was because Fitzwilliam was the only other person on his ship.

Now since being locked up in the jail, the two boys had ran off multiple nights to play games with blades, hot metal, rope, shackles, gags, and ended with making passionate love before going back down to Jack's cell. It was their little secret. Each night they would experiment with something new. They would sometimes take turns, but Jack rather liked being on the receiving end and Fitzwilliam didn't mind. Jack always usually liked being the top, but with Fitzwilliam, he like being the bottom, and being the victim at his hands since Fitzwilliam was taller and more fit. He sometimes wished he knew about these games when he was with Arabella or the girls he had been with back at Shipwreck Cove. Although, Teague sometimes questioned why his son seemed to have more injuries than him. Jack simply answered that they just beat him more.

How could this be happening? Fitzwilliam had just betrayed him and attempted to mutiny him, and _now_ his feelings for him were getting stronger? Right before his hanging?

Jack and Teague were taken through another cold, dark corridor, and then taken outside to a giant gate. The gate lifted open to two lines of soldiers, one on each side, with their muskets lifted to make an arch. A faint drumming sound was heard on the other side. They were escorted through the arch and were stopped by a familiar face, Mr. Gibbs. Jack and Teague hadn't seen him since before they were thrown in jail.

"Sorry about all this," Mr. Gibbs whispered. "Why didn't you just flee when ye were off the ship?"

Teague glanced down at Jack, only slightly irritated. Jack thought Teague seemed to be enjoying this whole hullabaloo a great deal.

Mr. Gibbs leaned in close to Teague in a whisper, preventing Jack from listening in. The two shook hands and Mr. Gibbs turned to Jack and leaned in towards him.

"Whatever happens, listen to yer da' and do what you're told," Mr. Gibbs said. Jack gave a curt nod and with that, he walked away.

The officers let go of the two, leaving them to walk the wooden stairs up to the gallows. Each step creaked under the weight of their boots and the shackles clanged to every move. Teague walked ahead as the two stepped over to their spots onto the platforms that'll which open up beneath them.

The sun blinded Jack as he looked down upon what was in front of him. The townspeople were gathered in the middle of the courtyard, right in front of the gallows, eager and ready to watch the execution. Jack scanned the crowd searching for Fitzwilliam, but the aristocrat was nowhere to be seen.

Admiral Lawrence Norrington walked to the front of the crowd dragging his son by the hand. He placed the boy in the crowd, right in the front row to see all the action. He knelt down to the boy. "James, you are about to witness something I pray you will never forget."

The admiral walked away, leaving the frightened boy all by himself in the crowd as he walked up the steps to the gallows and made his way in front of Jack and Teague.

The admiral began to speak to the crowd, but Jack and Teague were too distracted by the executioner prepping them for their hanging. He went up to Teague first and took off whatever jewelry was on him. He pulled the noose over the pirate's head and made sure it was secure. The executioner stepped over to Jack, which startled him a bit since the man was tall, heavyset, and dressed in black and brown leather with his head completely covered. The executioner took off the tiny gold earrings Jack wore off his ears and pulled the noose over his head, tugging it securely around his neck. The rope felt rough and scratchy around his neck.

It now appeared to have been too late for that "opportune moment" Teague had been talking about. Teague however still kept his head up and appeared confident. Jack tried to do the same, but the thought that this truly must be the end raced through his mind and brought him down. There was no way out of this bind. After all he'd been though, after the mermaids and pirate kings, cursed swords and time-bending watches, it would end like this: hanging off a noose in the gallows at Port Royal, like any other ordinary pirate or criminal.

The admiral held out his hand, and an officer placed a rolled scroll in his open palm. Lawrence Norrington unrolled it and held it out ceremoniously.

"This pirate known as Teague—be it known that he has been charged, tried, and convicted for—"

"Wait, wait, wait just for one moment," Jack said. "What's all this 'charged, tried, and convicted' business? Perhaps it's just me, but I don't recall anyone doing any charging or trying or convicting here."

The admiral shot Jack a scowling glance.

"Fine," the admiral said flatly. "This pirate known as Teague, has been charged with piracy," the admiral said.

"Very well, then," Jack said. "But what about the trying and convicting part?"

"Ladies and gentlemen," the admiral shouted to the crowd, "is this man, known as Teague, guilty of piracy?"

A strong voice yelled out "Guilty!" and everyone in the crowd joined in.

"Now, if I may continue," the admiral said.

"The floor's all yours, mate," Jack said.

Teague almost smirked at Jack's constant interruptions. Although, he could still sense some fear in Jack.

"He has been tried and convicted for willful commission of crimes against the Crown, said crimes being infinite in quantity and sinister in nature, the most egregious of those to be cited herewith: piracy, threatening members of the Royal Navy with their own weapons, threatening members of the Royal Navy with his own weapons, theft of a gaggle of geese from a wading pond outside of Boston, threatening members of the Royal Navy with said gaggle of geese, looting, arson, theft of a Royal Navy vessel, possessing an unlawful quantity of barley and hops, pillaging, cavorting with soothsayers, extortion, smuggling; and for these crimes he has been sentenced to be executed by hanging by the neck."

Before Jack could interrupt again, the admiral continued on. "And the protégé known as Jack Sparrow, has been charged, tried, and convicted of association of piracy; and for that crime he has also been sentenced to be executed by hanging by the neck."

The admiral finally finished. "May God have mercy upon their souls." Those words sent a shiver down Jack's spine.

Before the admiral left, he turned to Teague. "Good riddance, Teague," the admiral said.

"And good riddance to you, as well," Teague responded with the air of a man who refused to die with anything but dignity.

The admiral turned and walked to the stairs. Then, Jack heard a familiar voice call out from that very direction. "Uncle, I must have my final word with them," Fitzwilliam said.

The admiral huffed in annoyance. "Very well, then. Be quick."

The admiral waited at the bottom of the steps as Fitzwilliam went up the gallows to Jack, who was the closest to the stairs.

The two boys stared at each other as if everything else around them disappeared into a void. Fitzwilliam's eyes looked glossed over with emotion as he looked at the dirty, frail boy standing in front of him. His normally already shaggy hair was even more caked in dirt and matted, his clothes—or what was left of them since he was stripped down to just his shirt, pants, sash, and boots—was covered in dirt and spots of blood throughout. His shirt was torn at the sleeve, revealing a good portion of his left shoulder. The rest of his body was covered in cuts, scratches, bruises, burns, dirt, and blood, from the beatings he received and from the "games" they used to play occasionally throughout the past couple of weeks. Chains draped over the shackles on his wrists and ankles, and the rope was tied securely around his neck in a noose.

Fitzwilliam brushed the back of his fingers against Jack's dirtied face as Jack looked up with equally glossed over eyes. Jack had hoped Fitzwilliam would do something to stop this, hoping he had a change of heart from all the time they had spent together.

"I'm sorry it had to end this way, Jack," Fitzwilliam said sadly.

"W-what?" Jack asked.

"It is only part of my job to help rid the world of piracy. It's a shame you had to be one of them. Then things would have been different."

Jack was frozen and speechless as Fitzwilliam pulled his hand back and walked back to the stairs. A lump formed in his throat. Sadness and anger filled him. Fitzwilliam had betrayed him again, the second time in the past few weeks.

To Jack's surprise, he suddenly heard something unexpected.

As Fitzwilliam walked down the wooden stairs, his emotions got the best of him as he collapsed on the steps and broke down into tears.

Jack turned his body and craned his neck to see the admiral comforting Fitzwilliam sitting on the steps. The aristocrat's body shook as he loudly sobbed. Of everything that had just transpired, Jack couldn't help but start to shed tears as well.

The admiral turned his head a little, side-eyeing Jack. Jack immediately turned himself back towards the crowd, tears still lightly cascading down his face. He hoped Teague didn't notice him crying.

With all the final exchanges finished, the executioner turned to the lever. Jack looked up at the blinding sun, knowing this would be the last time he would ever see it. He closed his eyes, hoping his death would be quick. He heard the executioner grip the lever and begin to pull.

"STOP!"

Jack opened his eyes and looked around to see what happened. The executioner gripping the lever was still, the admiral and Fitzwilliam were still, all the officers and soldiers were still, and the townspeople in front of him were still. He looked up at Teague who had a devilish grin, and one of the many rings on his fingers glowed.

Teague began to fiddle with the chains, undoing all his shackles one by one, and pulled the noose off his neck. Teague was freed from his bonds and walked over to Jack, taking off his noose and undoing his shackles as well with a little key. "Come on, Jackie. Let's go!"

Everything suddenly clicked together in Jack's mind. _This_ was that opportune moment; Teague had this planned all along. Although spending two weeks getting beaten wasn't likely part of the plan, Teague had planned the conversation with Mr. Gibbs, in which Gibbs had given Teague the key during their handshake. Then, Teague used his magical ring to halt the execution and used the key to break free and escape.

The shackles broke free from Jack's wrists and ankles and Teague pushed him to the side. With the exit down the stairs blocked, there was only one other way out. Teague ran to the lever and pulled it, opening the platforms they just stood on and jumped down one of them. Jack followed suit.

Everyone else suddenly came to from their trance and realized that the two pirates weren't standing at the gallows anymore. The admiral went up to the gallows and stood there shocked. The nooses hung loose and the platforms were open. The executioner just shrugged.

"They escaped!" the admiral exclaimed. He then turned and caught Teague and Jack running towards the parapet overlooking the docks. He pointed at them and shouted, "After them!"

All at once, the soldiers ran after with guns in hand. Jack and Teague ran to the stone wall next to the arched bell tower. They both looked down at the water, knowing they'd have to jump. Teague took no chances and leapt off first. Jack watched as he hit the water with a splash. Teague's head popped out of the water, waiting for Jack.

Jack hesitated. He turned and found all the soldiers stopped just across the parapet aiming their guns. Admiral Lawrence was in the front gripping his boy by the arm. Mr. Gibbs was on one side of him, silently cheering Jack on, and Fitzwilliam was on the other side.

Jack looked into Fitzwilliam's eyes. "By the way, Fitzy, I _fucked_ Arabella!"

Jack didn't waste time seeing Fitzwilliam's reaction, turning back to the bluff and staring down at the water. He closed his eyes, praying he wouldn't hit the rocks below, and jumped.


End file.
